It's a good thing Carlisle clarifies--or attempts to clarify, really, the way he's slowly drawling out his usual torrent of words makes it hard to follow--because fire in the chest does not sound like a pleasant sensation to the ice alien. For a moment he's afraid that the heat of the tea he drank so quickly is hurting him, or that the amount of energy he pumped into it is somehow conflicted with the natural flow of the cleric's magic... but no, he seems too unbothered for any of that to be the case.

Trying to interpret what Carlisle is telling him, Glacius focuses on answer, and after a good moment or two of thinking, finally responds. "... Whenever I return to my home system after a long mission, and I see my homeworld there waiting for me, shining against the black void of space. When the clouds of said homeworld part after a long and fierce snowstorm, and sunlight glitters across perfect, sweeping drifts. When my people's leaders harness atmospheric optics, sending beams of light down from above to guide us, to assure us... and..."

The ice alien pauses for a moment as he thinks about it, considers the hand on his jaw and how much the gesture and Carlisle's companionship had meant when things were hard. "... And moments like with you, I suppose." Just saying that suddenly puts things in perspective... something clicks in his mind, and though he doesn't pull his head away from Carlisle's, his eyes do widen slightly. "... Are you saying that you... feel these sort of things... when you are with me?"